


The Elevator

by FlameWolf



Series: My Strange Romance [8]
Category: Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, Just an excuse to write dirty things, PWP, glass elevator, sex in an elevator, smutty mc smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 11:59:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10990500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlameWolf/pseuds/FlameWolf
Summary: After what happened, Manson decides he needs some alone time with Cherise.  Things, of course, get a little bit kinky.





	The Elevator

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t know and have never met Marilyn Manson. This is a work of fiction, just for fun and no profit will be made from this.
> 
> Author’s Note: Just a quick, smutty thing that takes place after the events of ‘The Proposal’. Seems Marilyn just can’t get enough of Cherise.

To say the entire household was thrown into turmoil as soon as Manson returned would be an understatement.  As soon as he had entered the house, the singer saw John 5 had been dragged downstairs and tied to a chair in the entry hall.  Raising his shaven brow at the struggling guitarist, he carried Cherise upstairs first, not wanting what was about to happen to wake her up.  Pogo, who had heard the lyricist enter, poked his head out of the living room; watching his boss mount the stairs before giving an evil smirk to the bound musician.  “Something tells me your goose is cooked man,” the keyboardist chuckled, pulling up a chair to settle in for the show.

Fiver could only sigh, his tongue flicking out to lick his split lip.  “As if I didn’t realize that when Twiggy punched me in the fucking eye.  All I wanted... I just... fuck man, all I wanted was Manson’s safety,” he sighed, looking at his fellow bandmate as best he could with his one good eye.  His other eye was a puffy, purple mess of its former self, seeming to ooze a clear liquid out of the partially open eyelid.

“Yeah, well ya went about it the wrong way.  Though, I bet Cherise put in a good word for you anyway.  Not that it matters much, Manny boy still looked like he wanted to settle your hash himself,” Gacy pointed out, looking all too happy about the circumstances.  John 5 only shook his head slowly, slumping forward as he seemed to begin to shake.

“You think I don’t know that?  You think I don’t realize I may have cost myself literally everything?!” growled the guitarist, his voice sounding slightly choked as he turned his face away from the other man.

“Yeah, you fucked up pretty hard alright,” snarled a baritone from the stairs making the prissy blonde freeze, his good eye closing as he braced himself.

“You nearly caused the best thing to happen to me to leave.  You made her actually have to think about accepting my proposal simply because she was afraid she would somehow hurt me.  Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t just fire you...,” continued the boss, closing in to place a heavy hand on the other man’s left shoulder.

John didn’t answer, just stared down at his knees as hot tears rolled down his pale cheeks.  “Is that your final answer, asshole?” Manson hissed in his ear, tightening his grip painfully.

“You know why I did it.  I regret the way I went about it but I had to know...  Dammit Brian, I’m one of your closest friends!  I just didn’t want things to end up like what happened with...,” he began, tapering off as he shook his head and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t try to give her the benefit of the doubt but...  So many women would love to be with you for just your fame,” he continued, wincing as the hand on his shoulder clenched even tighter.

Then the pressure was slowly letting off, a gruff sigh gusting out of the taller man behind him.  Slowly, the infuriated performer prowled to stand in front of him; obviously wanting his underling to look up at him.  Craning his head up, John 5 locked eyes with the lead man; prepared for anything the other man could throw at him.  So, it didn’t really surprise him when the infamously temperamental rocker punched him square in the nose.  “Ah fuck!” hissed the bleach blonde, his hand flying up to his hemorrhaging proboscis.  Smirking, the taller celebrity knelt to meet his employee’s eyes with a grim expression.

“I appreciate the sentiment but I can fucking take care of myself.  Now, I want you to listen to me like you’ve never listened before.  You do not have the right to vet my girlfriends, no matter  _ how _ good your intentions are.  So, if you  _ ever _ talk to Cherise like that again I  _ will _ fire you,” snarled the ‘Pale Emperor’, an extremely stern expression on his pale face.

“Y-you mean I...,” the effeminate guitarist murmured, a faint hint of hope in his voice as he held his head back to stop the flow of blood.

“Only because the woman you so despise asked me not to even confront you.  Don’t push your luck any further,” Manson spat, going into the kitchen to get a knife to free the poor man.

Rubbing her cheek against something that felt like a silk covered washboard, Cherise sighed contently as she felt arms flex around her.  Breathing in deeply, the painter opened her eyes to see her new fiance giving her a gentle smile.  “Morning kitten.  Did you sleep well?” rumbled his baritone as his hands rubbed along her back.

“Mmmmnnn, better than I have in years,” sighed out of her as she stretched, enjoying the feeling of her muscles flexing.

“Good.  I have a suggestion for you when you’re more awake.  Meet me downstairs when you’re ready,” sighed his content voice, lips pressing to her forehead before he was throwing the blankets off himself and getting out of bed.

Yawning, Cherise sat up; allowing the blanket to slide off her torso.  Looking down, she felt just the slightest bit of embarrassment about the fact she was naked.  Wondering just what the singer had up his sleeve, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and got to her feet.  Moving to the dresser, she picked out some clothes for the day before heading downstairs.  On her way down the hall, the oblivious femme ran face first into someone’s chest.  “Oh fuck... its you,” came from above her before the person she had run into was backing away at a fast pace.  Blinking as she looked up to see who it was, she caught the barest glimpse of a rather beaten up John 5.

“John?” she whispered, feeling a strange urge to follow the man.

From the looks of it, the effeminate male had gone a few rounds with some of the other band members due to what he had said to her.  If that was the case, it was likely the guitarist would be afraid to even be near her.  So, as much as she wanted to offer him what comfort she could, Cherise contented herself with moving down the stairs.  She just hoped Manson hadn’t been involved in whatever happened.  Not only had he promised her he wouldn’t do anything to the musician but she honestly didn’t believe two wrongs made a right.  Especially when it came to committing physical violence against another person.

Hearing laughter from the living room, the young artist did her best to shove the image of John 5 into the back of her before heading into the room.  What she saw only helped in that endeavor, leaving her with a feeling of stunned confusion.  Twiggy was dressed in his usual pink dress, sprawled on Manson’s lap while Pogo appeared to be wagging his dick in Ginger’s face.  Upon seeing her, the singer smiled and spread his arms wide in a gesture of welcome.  “Glad to see ya hun!  How would you feel about taking a week off for ourselves?” purred the singer’s familiar baritone, his words effectively wiping the injured bandmate from her mind.

Next thing she knew, she was in Manson’s car; still trying to wrap her mind around what was happening while they sped to the hotel.  “Where are we going?” she whispered, her blonde bangs blowing in her eyes.  The man next to her only smirked, rolling up his window to lessen the breeze buffeting her.

“You’ll find out when we get there,” cooed the celebrity, his tone of voice making her tingle all over.  It almost sounded as if he was trying to seduce her, his usually sonorous voice even deeper than normal and holding a gruff edge.

Shuddering as goosebumps popped up all over her body, the young woman took an unsteady breath as she focused on the yellow lines passing under them at a fast clip.  All kinds of possibilities raced through her mind, her heart beginning to race as desire began to build within her.  After what happened at the restaurant as well as the concert, all the scenarios were varying degrees of mortifying; each one more extreme than the last.  One even involved him simply bending her over the reception desk and taking her while he checked them in.

Groaning as she closed her cerulean eyes, Cherise nibbled her lower lip as she wondered just what was wrong with her.  Such a scenario could never happen and yet it tantalized her, only serving to add fuel to the fire burning inside her womb.  Shaking herself, the dual haired femme closed her eyes as she tried to get hold of herself.  Before she had meant Manson, none of this would have ever crossed her mind.  Now she was turning into some sort of deviant and the worst part was that she was enjoying it.  Something about all of this exhilarated her in a way she had never felt before and she was slowly becoming addicted to the feeling.

Already, she could feel her blood heating in her veins and they hadn’t even reached their destination yet.  A low chuckle from her left brought her attention back to her famous fiance, causing embarrassment to mix with the lust accumulating within her.  “I can smell your excitement from here kitten.  You’re becoming quite the exhibitionist,” purred her partner, his voice growing more throaty as his mismatched eyes drifted to her.  Feeling her cheeks heat, denials began to pour out of her like water; her hands flailing as she avoiding making any kind of eye contact.

A bigger, firm hand landing on hers stopped the stream, her vocal chords shutting off out of pure reaction.  Looking up timidly, Cherise felt some measure of relief when Manson merely gave her a look full of understanding.  “I never said that was a bad thing, now did I?  I’m sure you’ve noticed by now but I’m quite an exhibitionist myself,” Manson murmured, his voice holding a gentle tone under the gruffness.  Staring at him, the young woman nodded before she even realized that was what she was doing.  After everything that had happened between them, his declaration was a given but it did offer her  _ some _ comfort.

“N-no...  I just feel so weird about all of this...,” she admitted, clearing her throat as she moved her gaze to one side.

“I know hun, but it doesn’t really hurt anyone as long as we’re careful,” sighed the rockstar, his voice still holding a soothing note as he pulled up to a rather fancy looking hotel.

“Now don’t let anything else worry you.  I want you to relax, to get to know me a bit more.  I’m a bit different when I’m away from the other assholes.  I also want to show you just how much I love you,” rumbled the lyricist as he pulled into a parking spot, getting out of the car to open the passenger door for her.

As soon as her hand was in his, things happened fairly quickly.  In a rush, she was whisked into one of the most beautiful lobbies she had ever seen.  It seemed like the ballroom of a castle, the sculpted pillars reaching to arched ceilings.  Golden colored bannisters were attached to lushly carpeted stairs.  Gorgeously dressed couples seemed to float around in the spacious room, taking her breath away and making her feel more than a little insignificant.  Before she could protest the expense a place like this would have, Cherise found herself whisked into an elevator with a glass back that looked out over the city as it went upward.

As the glass cylinder shuddered to a start, the painter felt her already elevated pulse race even faster.  She could clearly tell where this was going, especially given how slow they were moving combined with the fact they were located on the top floor.  Sure enough, she could feel a taller body press into her from behind; a hot breath gusting against the back of her neck as they began to rise over the parking lot.  “B-brian,” gasped out of her as if from another person, her skin tingling as he gave the scruff of her neck an open mouthed kiss.

“Shhhh.  Put your hands on the glass and just put your trust in me.  Don’t worry about anyone else coming in either.  This is one of the hotel’s private elevators,” growled a baritone that sounded like it was coming from underwater.

Gasping, Cherise closed her eyes; shutting out the world around her as the sound of her pulse filled her ears.  Reality seemed to pull away from her as she felt hands yank at her jeans and panties, hot breaths hitting the back of her neck and only adding to the storm brewing inside her.  She felt like she was on fire while drowning, unable to get enough air as she felt hardened flesh seat itself inside her buttcheeks.  “Breathe kitten and be as loud as you please.  This thing is soundproofed,” growled an almost demonic voice as something behind her shifted.

Feeling something press against her surprisingly wet entrance, the young artist lifted her right leg slightly and moaned as she pressed backward into the bony frame pressing against her.  A low hiss issued from above her, his shaft filling her slowly as his hands came up to cover hers.  “Ahn, ffffuuuck.  So tight, so wet.  Hnnn, shit,” cursed a voice as she tried to regain her senses, every nerve inside her twitching in anticipation.  She could feel him seated deep within her, her walls quivering around the intrusion while her upper thighs shuddered.  The man above her was doing no better, panting heavily as he seemed to shake.

Suddenly he was moving, the first stroke drawing a musical noise from her as blunt nails scrabbled on smooth glass.  Soft, animalistic grunts issued from her partner as he increased speed, his hips swiveling every so often and causing the most interesting sensations.  “Mine, miiine,” snarled a dark rasp in her ear, making her quiver all over.  This, of course, made everything in her tighten; drawing a low moan that vibrated her from the inside out.

“Ooohhhh.  C-cum for me sweetheart.  I can’t... I can’t hold out,” pleaded the voice, the pleading tone making her agree as she rested her forehead against the domed glass.  Then he was thrusting hard, hitting something that made her see stars as pleasure began to overtake her senses.

“Ahhh, B-Brian,” gasped a voice that sounded like hers as her body exploded and imploded at the same time, a rainbow light filling her vision as her body slumped forward.  Arms caught her as a body braced her against the transparent wall, something warm flooding her as a soft grunt came from the man behind her.

“Cherise...  Cherise...,” he sighed, her name sounded almost decadent on his lips as loving kisses graced her heated flesh.  Then he was lifting her into his arms, adjusting their clothing carefully as the elevator continued its trip.  The painter, who was quickly losing consciousness, smiled as she nestled into Manson’s chest.

“Mine,” growled out of her, her voice holding a slight gruffness as she slipped into a deep sleep.

“Yours forever beloved,” replied the ‘Antichrist Superstar’, nosing her forehead as the glass cylinder came to a stop and the double doors slid open.


End file.
